What Happened

It is pretty simple really

Your mother broke the most meaningful dream I ever hoped

To be, a husband and father of children raising them in loving shared time

With these precious years of my life

Dedicated watching such a garden peek for the sun

From up close after school days and outings, vacations and

Slumbers, breathing in each as a blessing in minutes

Your mother burned that to the ground for me

Whether by adultery, volition, ambivalence, anger or her self-hatred

I can never have that space-time back

The position is gone, references dislodged

This was the moment in translation that I realized

I was no longer privy to common dreams

Under the cushion of basic genetic endorphin release

To see one’s progeny carrying on into chronicles

As if that were indulgently part me; so in this brushfire

I have had to relinquish my applicability as who I thought I would have the ease to be

For you, for me, for your mother; all of it is inapplicable

In the grand singe of soil 

I have insulated my being into a turtle shell cavern-like contemplative reptilian

Thinking of the existential as any part personal pierces this veil of a memory

Of what I have had to convince myself I do not hunger

To want a family is to place my tongue on the ash white feces of a dead man

Licking the rancid wound of a corpse decayed and rotten out

Past a snowstorm who caught flame as an effigy of a husband to a wife’s pride

Of how my love could turn what it never was in reciprocation into a counterbalance

Funded by a spread of accused ineptitude including a mistreatment of you

The crux of the wound set me into drink the sterile syrup of death

Others have died so that you may live beyond the pernicious infection

For if left to spread to vengeance or defiance I swallow our apocalypse

In folds of regret I burrow and burrow like a fixated owl 

Religion is lost and god became the time I have commissioned to forgetfulness

What was never was like love itself once seen swimming in circles in this ocean

Appeared to drift away, when all I did was recognize the absence of a mirage